KAIREN
The silence was the worst part.
It wasn't a true silence, of course. The K-S Continental was a monument to noise, the hushed whir of the ventilation, the distant chime of elevators, the muffled tap of expensive shoes on marble floors. But to me, it was all a form of silence. It was the sound of a vacuum, an absence so profound it had its own auditory signature.
It was the sound of my life without Aisha's laughter. Without Viktor's judgmental, grounding presence.
I stood at the obnoxiously tall window of my office, a space so vast and minimalist it felt more like an art installation than a place of work. The city sprawled below me, a dazzling grid of light and ambition. I owned a piece of it all, and none of it mattered. The view was just a prettier version of my hell.
